


In a hole in a ground....

by marblequeen



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Comfort, Comfort Reading, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Reading, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 00:33:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30097539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marblequeen/pseuds/marblequeen
Summary: Steve and Bucky spend a lazy evening together, reading the Hobbit. That's all, that's the fic
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	In a hole in a ground....

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OhBucketMyBucket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhBucketMyBucket/gifts).



> This is just a celebration on the fact that Tolkien is canon in the MCU

Bucky was sitting in their bed, propped up on a pillow but slouching enough so that Steve could lay comfortably on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. This was the only bed they ever used, even though the tiny one bedroom flat they were renting came with a quite comfortable pull-out couch. This was their safe space, where they could be themselves without curious glances and outright hateful and disgusted words.  
There was a slight wheeze to Steve’s breath and Bucky bit back a worried question threatening to spill form his lips. Steve was coming out of a recent bout of pneumonia and was still too weak to do anything, which landed him in bed for most hours of the day, leaving him bored out of his mind. Bucky was sure that as soon as he left for work, Steve would sneak out from under the covers and do all those little things that made their apartment a home. During Steve’s sickness Bucky was so sure he would never feel at home again. He was so afraid, so frightened, every time he was listening helplessly, rubbing Steve’s back uselessly while he coughed and struggled for air. He was almost certain that this would be their wordless goodbye – Bucky unable to help, Steve strangled by his own respiratory system.  
He did make it though. Sure, he was weak and thin, hollowed out cheeks and too prominent ribs saying just how much it took out of him to fight for his life. Bucky wished he gained more, he wished money were worth more, but every time his paycheck wasn’t quite enough he just gritted his teeth and did what he could to make their lives easier. And every time he went home, Steve would be there, alive, opening the door and trembling from the freezingly cold breeze from the corridor, looping his thin but surprisingly strong arms around Bucky’s neck and squeezing him tight. Steve never said anything about how Bucky’s eyes were wet around the corners, so Bucky never said anything about just how much Steve needed the comfort. They would eat dinner, Steve would say he should do the dishes since he does nothing but lay in their bed all day and Bucky would be too content to argue back, so he would just swoop in with a kiss on his cheek and bundle up his tiny lover in thick arms and thicker blankets, carry him to their bedroom, tuck Steve in, (get batted away with the ferocity and strength of a kitten), and settle down to read.  
It was a pleasure the had discovered by chance on a long, sufferingly hot summer evening. Steve couldn’t sleep and had been bothering his boyfriend to pay attention to him, but Bucky had been too engrossed in the newest part of a fictional story published in the newspaper to offer more than distracted pats on whatever body part his hand had landed on and mumbled responses. Steve wouldn’t be placated though, so, as a compromise, Bucky had started to read out loud.  
He hadn’t even realised he had been doing all the voices and acting out gestures with his free hand. He hadn’t realised Steve settled down, just looking at him adoringly, biting his lip not to say anything. His hands itched for a sketchbook and a pencil, but he didn’t move lest he breaks Bucky out of his trance.  
So, they started doing it more often. Sometimes it was Steve who read, when Bucky was too tired to keep his eyes open, sometimes it was Bucky, with Steve bent over a piece of paper, sketching furiously (that was how Steve got some of his pictures published in a children’s book – he was so proud of the money he earned). But either way, most evenings found them in bed, curled together, with a book propped open on somebody’s lap, quiet, warm voices carrying over the bedroom.  
It had been such a joy, when Bucky had gotten a beat down copy of “The Hobbit”. He had wanted to read it since it had come out but had refused his parents’ offer when they had suggested they could give it to him as a gift. Then, a few months later, Christmas had been nearing. Maybe it had been an element of Christmas magic, maybe just luck, but just around the corner from their tiny flat, on top of a dumpster there had been laying a book. Its cover had been torn and the contents page had been missing but clear as the day Bucky could read those first magical words… “In a hole in the ground, there lived a Hobbit”.  
A bony elbow dug into Bucky’s side, bringing him out of his daydreaming.  
“You readin’ or what” Steve wasn’t really asking, Bucky’s voice was soothing, his heartbeat steady, and Steve had been drifting in and out of sleep, staring at Bucky’s passionate face. He wasn’t actually interested in the hobbit’s adventures, they were nice to listen to, sure, but not so much to capture his attention for too long. Besides, when listening, Steve couldn’t help but create strategically better ways to go about things in the story and that took the fun out of it entirely. No, what Steve enjoyed most during those lazy evenings was watching Bucky be so alive, so passionate about the story, listening to the changes in his voice as he became different characters, almost bringing the hobbit, the wizard and all the thirteen dwarves into their tiny bedroom.  
“Was just checking to see if you listenin’” Bucky teased back but repositioned his arm behind Steve’s back to bring him closer to his heart and started reading again.  
Chapter four was perhaps his all-time favourite. Nasty goblins capturing the dwarves against their will, taking all they had, the hopelessness of being taken and the miraculous salvation in the form of somebody unexpected but so welcome – it all resonated somewhere inside him, making his voice even more invested, his gestures broader. And oh, he just loved the way it ended with a cliff-hanger, with Bilbo falling into the dark… he stopped and took a deep breath. Right as he was going to say, “chapter five”, a quiet snore caught his attention.  
Steve was asleep. Blissfully, peacefully asleep, long lashes brushing his cheeks, the frown on his forehead smoothed out, making him look younger, more careless. His entire frame was loose, relaxed and Bucky couldn’t help but kiss his forehead tenderly. He ran his fingers through soft, blonde hair and delicately turned Steve to lay on the bed, rather than on Bucky’s shoulder. He got up to put the book back on the shelf but didn’t take more than a step away from the bed when a disgruntled noise came from behind him. He turned around to see Steve’s hand flailing around, presumably looking for him. When he didn’t find anything, Steve made half-asleep grabby hands and Bucky didn’t even know when he left the book on a bedside table and crawled under the covers to lay beside his lover. Steve’s smile was so contented, his body so warm… Bucky brushed his hair out of his eyes and kissed his forehead again.  
A quiet “love you” was murmured into his shirt and a wave of warm, strong feelings submerged Bucky’s mind entirely. He gathered Steve close, closer, laying him down on Bucky’s chest, almost on top of him. His hands caressed too thin arms, too prominent ribs and Bucky was suddenly afraid he would roll over and crush Steve in his sleep. Steve just mumbled something unintelligible and kissed the body part closest to his mouth – Bucky’s chest. He tangled his ice-cold feet with Bucky’s, making his boyfriend sigh and tuck the covers tighter around Steve’s legs. The damned punk would always loose his socks somewhere.  
With a happy smile on his face and a chest-full of love, Bucky drifted to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know of you see any errors! I am not an English native speaker nor do I live in a country where the language is commonly spoken, so your comments help me learn and evolve ;)


End file.
